CHAPTER XV
The Battle of Copenhagen
(1801)
“I have a right to be blind sometimes.”
Nelson.
Admiral Mahan, the most scientific of biographical historians, assures us that the fullest and most interesting account of the Battle of Copenhagen is that of Colonel William Stewart, an eye-witness of the thrilling scene and “a very fine gallant man” according to Nelson. The following particulars are therefore extracted from his graphic narrative:
“The Action began at five minutes past ten. In about half an hour afterwards, the first half of our Fleet was engaged, and before half-past eleven, the Battle became general. The Elephant’s station was in the centre, opposite to the Danish Commodore.... The judgment with which each Ship calculated her station in that intricate Channel, was admirable throughout. The failure of the three Ships that were aground, and whose force was to have been opposed to the Trekroner battery, left this day, as glorious for seamanship as for courage, incomplete.... The gallant Riou, perceiving the blank in the original plan for the attack of the Crown Battery, proceeded down the Line with his Squadron of Frigates, and attempted, but in vain, to fulfil the duty of the absent Ships of the Line. His force was unequal to it; and the general signal of recall, which was made about mid-action by the Commander-in-Chief, had the good effect of, at least, saving Riou’s Squadron from destruction.
“About one P.M., few if any of the Enemy’s heavy Ships and Praams had ceased to fire. The Isis had greatly suffered by the superior weight of the Provestein’s fire; and if it had not been for the judicious diversion of it by the Desirée, Captain Inman, who raked her, and for other assistance from the Polyphemus, the Isis would have been destroyed. Both the Isis and Bellona had received serious injury by the bursting of some of their guns. The Monarch was also suffering severely under the united fire of the Holstein and Zealand; and only two of our Bomb-vessels could get to their station on the Middle Ground, and open their mortars on the Arsenal, directing their shells over both Fleets. Our Squadron of Gun-brigs, impeded by currents, could not, with the exception of one, although commanded by Captain Rose in the Jamaica, weather the eastern end of the Middle Ground, or come into Action. The Division of the Commander-in-chief acted according to the preconcerted plan; but could only menace the entrance of the Harbour. The Elephant was warmly engaged by the Dannebrog, and by two heavy Praams on her bow and quarter. Signals of distress were on board the Bellona and Russell, and of inability from the Agamemnon. The contest, in general, although from the relaxed state of the Enemy’s fire, it might not have given much room for apprehension as to the result, had certainly, at one P.M., not declared itself in favour of either side. About this juncture, and in this posture of affairs, the signal was thrown out on board the London,[54] for the Action to cease.
“I really do not see the signal”
Stephen Reid
“Lord Nelson was at this time, as he had been during the whole Action, walking the starboard side of the quarter-deck; sometimes much animated, and at others heroically fine in his observations. A shot through the mainmast knocked a few splinters about us. He observed to me, with a smile, ‘It is warm work, and this day may be the last to any of us at a moment’; and then stopping short at the gangway, he used an expression never to be erased from my memory, and said with emotion, ‘but mark you, I would not be elsewhere for thousands.’ When the signal, No. 39, [to discontinue the engagement], was made, the Signal Lieutenant reported it to him. He continued his walk, and did not appear to take notice of it. The Lieutenant meeting his Lordship at the next turn asked, ‘whether he should repeat it?’ Lord Nelson answered, ‘No, acknowledge it.’ On the Officer returning to the poop, his Lordship called after him, ‘Is No. 16 [for close action] still hoisted?’ the Lieutenant answering in the affirmative, Lord Nelson said, ‘Mind you keep it so.’ He now walked the deck considerably agitated, which was always known by his moving the stump of his right arm. After a turn or two, he said to me, in a quick manner, ‘Do you know what’s shown on board of the Commander-in-chief, No. 39?’ On asking him what that meant, he answered, ‘Why, to leave off Action.’ ‘Leave off Action!’ he repeated, and then added, with a shrug, ‘Now, —— me if I do.’ He also observed, I believe, to Captain Foley, ‘You know, Foley, I have only one eye—I have a right to be blind sometimes’; and then with an archness peculiar to his character, putting the glass to his blind eye, he exclaimed, ‘I really do not see the signal.’[55] This remarkable signal was, therefore, only acknowledged on board the Elephant, not repeated. Admiral Graves did the latter, not being able to distinguish the Elephant’s conduct: either by a fortunate accident, or intentionally, No. 16 was not displaced. The Squadron of Frigates obeyed the signal, and hauled off. That brave Officer, Captain Riou, was killed by a raking shot, when the Amazon showed her stern to the Trekroner. He was sitting on a gun, was encouraging his men, and had been wounded in the head by a splinter. He had expressed himself grieved at being thus obliged to retreat, and nobly observed, ‘What will Nelson think of us?’ His Clerk was killed by his side; and by another shot, several of the Marines, while hauling on the main-brace, shared the same fate. Riou then exclaimed, ‘Come then, my boys, let us die all together!’ The words were scarcely uttered, when the fatal shot severed him in two. Thus, and in an instant, was the British service deprived of one of its greatest ornaments, and society of a character of singular worth, resembling the heroes of romance.